by Rachel Kane
“God no. Just Hunter proving himself to be exactly as awful as we assumed.”
“Clearly I’m going to have to raise the bid, if I want to spend time with you.” Sergio laughed, and ushered me into the freezer. “What do you think?”
I looked at the array of tools laid neatly out, their blades and coils shining. “I feel like I just stepped into a serial killer’s workshop.”
“I’m really torn. I’ve made so much progress on this sculpture, but now that all my stuff is here, I keep wondering if I should scrap what I’ve done and start over, try to make it closer to my original vision.”
I took a deep breath. “Sergio, not to distract you from the sculpture--”
He must have heard the tone in my voice, because the excited expression on his face stilled. “Is everything okay? Hunter didn’t upset you, did he?”
“Upset me? I’m not five. No, this isn’t about Hunter. I mean, in a sense it is, but not really.”
“Well, pull up a crate and let’s talk,” he said, sitting on one of his tool chests.
I turned and pulled the nearest crate towards me to sit down on.
But clearly my mind wasn’t in the right place. I grabbed the crate that had been holding the door open. I didn’t even realize it was swinging shut until Sergio yelped. It closed with a click, and the light overhead went out.
“Oh no!” I said.
It was utterly black.
I’m not a panicky person. I’m not saying I’m courageous or anything. But I can handle heights fine, I can go on roller-coasters, and I’ve never met a spider I couldn’t pick up and toss outside. But there was something about the stress of that conversation with Hunter that had me on edge, and now, to suddenly be plunged into darkness, in a tiny freezer whose walls I could not see, took my breath away. “I--I--”
“It’s okay,” said Sergio.
“No, I don’t, I can’t--” All the air was gone. Every cubic inch of it. I was in vacuum, like someone had dropped me into outer space. I tried to inhale, but nothing was happening. My hands tingled from the cold. Was I going to die here?
A sudden glow lit up Sergio’s face from below. He had his phone out. His face looked strange and eerie in the greenish light. But he smiled. “Are you okay?”
I tried to catch my breath. “We’re locked--locked--”
“Wow, Marcus, it really is okay.” He nudged past me and opened the door. He swung it wide. “This isn’t a horror movie. Can you imagine the lawsuits if they made freezer doors that didn’t open from inside?”
My hand was on my chest. I stood up and walked out into the corridor. “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea I was claustrophobic. Or freezerphobic. Or whatever that was.”
“I swear, a big guy like you, worried over a little thing like dying in a walk-in freezer full of knives and saws.”
I chuckled weakly. “Glad you kept your head about you.”
He reached out and took my shoulder. When Hunter had touched my shoulder, it had been creepy and invasive, like being explored by an alien. When Sergio did it...I felt protected.
I don’t think I’d ever realized, until just that moment, what protected felt like. Then his other hand was around my back, and he was pulling me close.
“I’m not letting anything happen to you,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me.”
I rested in his arms for a moment--too brief!--before pulling back a little bit. “Do you mean that?”
He blinked. “It sounds very dramatic, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Drama?”
I shook my head. “About...us. I know we’re over the fighting. And I have gone from hating your guts to liking you. A lot.”
“A lot?”
“A lot,” I said. “And I realize you could say to me now that this was just a fling--”
“It’s not a fling. Not to me.”
I realized I’d been looking away from him. Bashful, as though maybe none of this was real, as though I had misinterpreted everything. Now I looked into his eyes. “You like me?” I asked.
“Marcus, I don’t know how to talk about it, because this is so quick, and a week ago I would’ve thought we were completely incompatible, but...yes, yes I like you, I like being around you, I like talking to you, I keep hoping for the next time we’ll be alone together in some out-of-the-way place so I can get you undressed again...and I would’ve said it to you this morning when we woke up, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment.”
“I don’t think it would’ve ruined anything,” I said.
“Fine, then I demand a rematch. You inside me, me admitting I like you, all at the same time.”
“So are we...” I tried to think of a way to say it that wasn’t corny and lame, but finally just had to blurt it out, “Are we a couple?”
“I think we need to at least give it a try,” he said.
“We don’t have to tell anyone, do we?”
“In this crowd? You tell one person, suddenly everyone in Oceanside knows. No, you’ve got some issues around being gossiped about--some valid issues, I should say--and I think it’s fine if we keep this private. For now.”
I laughed. “I feel so grown-up, talking about issues and relationships.”
“Yeah, I thought I was just coming down here to play with big ice cubes.”
I looked back into the freezer, then at him. “Hey, how long do you think someone could be naked in one of those before getting frostbite?”
15
Sergio: Making People
I felt like a kid on Christmas who has gotten too many toys all at once, and can’t figure out what to play with first. My tools were here, at long last, the selection of instruments I’d chosen to bring my vision to life, finally all before me, laid out nicely. I wanted to work!
On the other hand, I wanted to spend time with Marcus. I mean, to finally be past all the hemming and hawing, to actually finally admit we liked one another? I felt like taking the rest of the day off and spending it exploring the island with him.
As an artist, I think of my creative time as sacred. I don’t want it interrupted by anything. Interruptions pull you out of the flow, they break that dreamlike state that your best work comes out of. Worse, I had a deadline! There was so much more I wanted to do with this sculpture before it was revealed at Owen and Nat’s wedding reception.
I rationalized to myself: Ice is a transient medium. I couldn’t get the really fine detail work done until shortly before I showed it, anyway; tiny details would turn into vapor in the freezer, blowing away and being lost forever. So really, it was only logical to pack my tools back up, lock them in the freezer, and run away with Marcus? Right? Makes perfect sense. And if I felt guilty about it, I’d just push all that guilt down until I couldn’t find it anymore.
The island was beautiful. I realized, as I clambered up the hill so Marcus could show me his cliff, that I really hadn’t seen anything since I had been here. No wonder I was so tense all the time; what kind of person goes to a tropical island and doesn’t step outside?
“Careful here, this is where I scraped my knee up,” he said, reaching down to help me over a boulder. The sunlight was hot against my skin. Marcus hadn’t allowed me to come out wearing my usual clothes, but had insisted I wear shorts and a tank top, things I wouldn’t mind getting ripped up. I sensed that saying it doesn’t matter, I’ll just buy more wouldn’t be a good answer. But I was glad I had obeyed. I think I would’ve been sweating to death in the kinds of things I usually wore.
“You know, sculpting bangs you up,” I said, getting to the top of the boulder. “A few scrapes aren’t going to bother me. Remember how I smashed my finger on the ice?”
He was already ahead of me, down the path. “I just figured you were a delicate rich guy,” he said. “Your hands are soft like a baby’s.” He looked back at me, then took off laughing. I chased him.
The trail wasn’t well-defined. Branches batted agai
nst me, and I had to push my way through brambles and leap over roots. He had the advantage; he’d been here before, and when he pushed a branch out of the way, it came swinging right back at me. Leaves and vines conspired against me, but nothing was going to keep me from him. Sweat beaded my brow. My legs pounded, driving me forward. I was within an arms-length of him. I reached out. Just a little more speed--a little more--
I grabbed him from behind and tackled him to the ground. Our breath came out in a whoosh as we hit the undergrowth. For a moment I worried that I’d hurt him, throwing him down like this, but no, Marcus was strong, he was unbreakable, and there was a smile on his face as he grappled with me.
“You’re tougher than I realized,” he said, panting, struggling to get on top of me.
I laughed, and kept him pinned down. “I never realized how fast you could be,” I said. “All those muscles, I figured you’d be strong but slow.”
“I’ll give you strong and slow,” he threatened, then pressed his lips against mine.
Even though part of me wanted to play-fight all day, I couldn’t help but melt when he kissed me. Now that we were past all the bullshit uncertainty, there was a confidence between us, a sort of unspoken acknowledgement that vulnerability was okay. He stared into my eyes between kisses, and touched my face.
“You look thoughtful,” I said.
“It’s just funny,” he said. “Part of me wants to rip off your clothes right here in the forest. But the other part of me just wants to lie here next to you and just...just be with you.”
“I think that’s okay, don’t you?” I said. “We don’t have to be going at each other 24 hours a day.”
He kissed me again, then rose. “Good. Come on, let me show you this cliff.”
The rest of the trail was easier to follow, and opened onto a sight so magnificent I held my breath when I saw it. The world just opened up, and suddenly this vast ocean seemed only inches away. I looked down the sheer face of the cliff, wishing I could see still further, into the blue depths below us.
What could you say to a sight like this? The world was mine. I could reach out and touch one of the billowy clouds on the horizon. I could step off into nothingness. “Wow,” I said.
“When I’m up here, I wonder why anyone would ever go home,” Marcus said.
“Look at the little boats,” I said, pointing far from shore. “We could buy a boat, spend our days fishing.”
“When I was little, my dad would go off some weekends for fishing with his friends. Back then, you didn’t have to get far away from Oceanside to find some prime fishing waters. He’d come back with these coolers full. He looked so relaxed and happy when he got back, I was always asking if I could go with him.”
There was a wistful sound in his voice, and I realized that, as close as I felt to Marcus, I didn’t know a whole lot about his past. I slid my arm around his, and pulled him close to my side.
“I have never been fishing,” I said.
“Really? Not even once?”
“Literally never. My brother has a big boat, and he’s always asking me to go out with him, but I’ve never taken him up on it. I feel bad for the fish, you know? He’s got this massive swordfish on the wall of his study, and whenever I see it I think how magnificent it must have been, back in its element.”
Marcus chuckled. “When you say big boat...”
“What?”
“It’s just funny. I’m imagining a yacht.”
“Yeah, I mean, I feel funny saying my brother has a yacht. It’s like bragging by association. But it’s...I don’t know. It’s big. He hires a pilot.”
Marcus shook his head. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“Well, if he invites us anytime soon--” I suddenly stopped, because Marcus had paled. “What?”
“I just... When I said it would take some getting used to, I meant that I’d have to get used to hearing about things like yachts. I wasn’t trying to invite myself onto your brother’s boat or anything.”
I shrugged. “Okay? I didn’t think you were.”
“I feel like I’ve got to point that out, you know? With all the rumors.”
“God, Marcus, quit worrying about that. I don’t think you’re trying to weasel your way into my family’s ridiculous life. I mean, we’ve only been together a couple of hours, you shouldn’t have to worry about my family for quite a while.”
But I knew we were on uncomfortable ground. He had stiffened, and I let his arm go. I just watched him, as he gathered his thoughts.
Even when he was in obvious distress, he was beautiful. The blue sky behind him seemed to bring out his ruddy goodness, and even though it would be the wrong thing to do, I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and pull him close.
He looked down over the cliff. I had half a second’s fear that he would launch himself off, but then he turned to me. “You know about Xavier.”
“I don’t know anything about him. I’ve heard his name.”
“If you’ve heard his name, then you know the rumors about me.”
“Marcus, it’s okay, I don’t care--”
“But you should care, Sergio. Because if we’re going to be involved, you’re going to hear more about it, from all sorts of people, and I...I guess I want you to hear it from me, first.”
He lowered himself to the ground, and swung his legs over the cliff, until his feet were dangling down. I had just a moment’s nervousness before joining him.
“My parents never had a dime,” he said. “My dad’s work was pretty steady at the cannery, but it was hard work, and he’d come home tired and covered in grease, and it didn’t really pay. So my mom had to work, but Oceanside is really seasonal. When the tourists came, she had a job as a maid at a motel out on the highway, but when they left, there wasn’t a lot for her to do. More than once, we had to move, when we couldn’t cover the rent.”
“That’s awful,” I said. Faint memories from childhood reminded me of what that was like, but that was before my parents had swooped in with their money and their lawyers, adopting me and freeing me from worry.
“It was kind of normal,” he said. “Back in school, all my friends knew what that was like. We called it playing musical houses. Anyway, I was scrubbing dishes in restaurants by the time I was 14, getting paid under the table. The economy got better when we were in high school, and a lot of my friends started planning for college. Not me. My dad got injured at the cannery, and we moved out of the bungalow into a trailer outside town.
“I knew I had to do something to improve my life, so I wouldn’t end up like them. But what was I supposed to do? There was no money for school, and I wasn’t smart enough for a scholarship. Basically all I had was my looks. Does that sound vain? It wasn’t, really. I’d seen how the cute waiters would flirt with customers for bigger tips. I started paying a lot more attention to my hair and clothes. Started spending a lot more time in the gym. While some of my friends were studying hard to be accountants or lawyers or something, I was studying hard to impress old guys with disposable incomes.”
He said it so plainly, not trying to hide his motivations. I edged closer to him, not quite touching.
“I know it sounds awful, but we were all doing it, to one degree or another,” he said. “It was almost innocent, in a way. Be pretty and muscular so a customer would pay attention to you. Maybe you’d get a free drink out of it. Maybe a date. Hell, if I came home with a doggy bag, it was like I’d hit the jackpot, two full meals just for some flirting. I knew some guys went farther than that. Some just straight up slept with these old guys for cash. I’m not judging, I understand why they did it, but to me it seemed to cross a line. I mean, when I was younger, I--well, never mind, that’s not relevant to the story.
“But then I met Xavier. Did you ever eat at Cirka?”
I shook my head. “I think it closed before I got to town.”
“It was pretty cutting edge. I remember our outfit was red shirt, red apron, black pants, black tie.
I always felt like I was going to some kind of satanic Sunday school when I’d get dressed for work. The owner was a nightmare. Anyone working the front of the house had to be between six feet and six two. We all had to have the same haircut.”
“Yikes.”
“One night this guy comes in, and gets seated at my table. The host pulls me aside to let me know, this guy is important. Anything he says, I agree to. Anything he wants, I bring. I was pretty nervous. This guy just oozed money. He had on a fat gold watch, a suit that was way sharper than the ones you wear--”
“I had to buy mine at the hotel boutique!” I objected.
“--and even though his hair was thinning, it was like every silver strand had been perfectly shaped and spiked. Deep tan, the real thing, not spray-on. He took a look at me, and this smile broke out across his face, so wide it was scary. A predator’s smile. An alligator’s. He says, Look at you, and I was so nervous I felt like I couldn’t say a word. I powered through it, making sure I was friendly and confident but also completely deferential. By the end of the meal--and I mean, this meal was huge, he had seven courses, leaving almost all of it untouched--but by the end of it, he’d clearly made some decision about me. He said he liked my professionalism. He handed me his card. A young man like you has a lot of potential.”
I shivered. I’d been around a thousand guys like Xavier Wallace, men who thought they could buy anything. When they treat you like an equal, they tell you the stories of their conquests. They always make me feel creepy. I had no idea what it would be like if they thought they could lord it over you. As bright and sunny as it was, I felt like I was in a dim, moodily-lit restaurant, studying the shadowed crags of Xavier’s face.
“I guess you called him,” I said.
“I had to, didn’t I? That’s the thing I was telling you before. You can’t really say no to these guys. He’d dropped hundreds of bucks on a meal he had no intention of eating. I don’t even think he was there for dinner. I think it was just to be seen. There’s a power that comes with that kind of confidence. There’s a hidden threat to it, too. He didn’t have to say Call me or else.
